An unexpected comapnion
by Padshii Angel
Summary: Thorin didn't expect El, the elven woman he rescued from a pit trap. When Thorin decides she knows too much El and her strange companion a Nightingale join the group. Will Thorin survive El? Thorin/oc based on the movie not the book, didn't have hobbit in movies. I don't accept challenges.
1. An Elf in a hole

**A/N: Hey guys, check it, my latest work, here's the first chapter.  
You know the drill, I don't own the hobbit, this is just written for your enjoyment. I value your opinions, so please, don't be shy, read and review it. ;D Padshii out**

It began long ago, in a land far away to the east. The like of which you will not find in the world today. There was the city of Dale, its markets known far and wide; full of the bounties of vine and vale; peaceful and prosperous.  
This city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom in Middle Earth; Erebor. Stronghold of Thror, king under the mountain, mightiest of the Dwarf lords. Thror ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure. For his line lay secure in the lives of his son, and grandson.  
Erebor, built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress city was legend.  
Its wealth lay in the earth in precious gems, hewn from rock, and in great seams of gold running like rivers through stone.  
The skill of the Dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire.  
Ever they delved deeper, down into the dark; and that is where they found it: The heart of the mountain; the Arkenstone.  
Thror named it the king's jewel, he took it as a sign, a sign that his right to rule was divine. All would pay homage to him, even the great elven king, Thrandhuil.  
But the years of peace and plenty were not to last. Slowly the days turned sour, and the watchful nights closed in.  
Thror's love of gold had grown too fierce. A sickness had begun to grow within him, it was a sickness of the mind.  
And where sickness thrives, bad things will follow.  
The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane, coming down from the north. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked like a hot dry wind. He was a fire drake from the north.  
Smaug had come.  
Such wanton death was dealt that day; but this city of men was nothing to Smaug. His eye was set on another prize.  
For dragons covet gold with a dark and fierce desire.  
Erebor was lost, for a dragon will guard his plunder as long as he lives.

Thrandhuil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wrath of the dragon.  
No help came from the elves that day, nor any day since.  
Robbed of their homeland, the Dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness.  
A once mighty people brought low; the young dwarf prince took work where he could find it. Labouring in the villages of men.  
But always he remembered, the mountains smoke beneath the moon, the trees, like torches blazing bright. For he had seen dragon fire in the sky, and a city turned to ash.  
He never forgave, and he never, forgot.

This story begins in a hole in the ground, a hunters pit trap to be precise.  
The deep woods surrounded the large, deep hole in the ground.

A nightingale chirped as it swooped down to cling securely to a thin twig that grew over the perfectly round, even hole.  
Turning it's head slightly it looked down at the struggling occupant of the hole, whose long auburn curls jumped and swung as she jumped up and down, trying to reach the edge of the hole.  
The bird trilled it's amusement as it watched the tiny woman struggle.

"If you're not too busy laughing at me Dúlin, I'd really appreciate it if you could find a way to help me out of this hole." She called up to the chortling nightingale as she leaped up in another attempt at grasping the edge of the hole she had fallen into.  
The little bird only laughed that trilling little laugh, almost falling from its perch in its amusement.  
El watched as the little bird as it cocked it' head. "No!" she cried out as Dúlin launched himself from the twig and flew off.  
"Come back here you treacherous little miscreant!" She started yelling at the tiny bird.

"What have we here?" the deep, distrustful voice demanded of the tiny auburn haired woman in the hole.  
She turned around slowly to see a rather tall dwarf with long black, graying hair and a well trimmed black beard, staring down at her with the most vivid sapphire eyes.  
"Now, how in Durin's name does such a tiny she-elf get herself caught in such a big deep hole?" El remained silent as she once again attempted to climb out of the hole with about as much success as all her other attempts. "I suppose I must offer to help you."

"Thank you." She called up to him as he tossed a dagger down to her.

"I want it back as soon as you're done with it." The Dwarf curtly tossed over his shoulder as he walked away from her.  
El jumped up as high as she could, ramming the dagger deep into the wall of the pit and using her momentum to swing herself up to the edge.

Thorin Oakenshield watched from the log he sat on as the tiny woman worked her way up out of the trap. The nightingale that had flown away as he approached the hole had returned and was singing it's heart breakingly beautiful song.

"You're not being very helpful Dúlin." She grumbled at the bird.  
Thorin shook his head, an involuntary chuckle rumbling deep within his throat. "You could provide more help as well you know." The tiny she elf snapped as she slammed his dagger into the earth and used it to haul herself out of the hole.  
She dropped onto the grass in relief when she had successfully climbed out and stared up at the blue sky.

"I'll have my dagger back now." Thorin said as he stood over her, taking in her petite, curvaceous, leather clad form, her ankle length, thick, silky auburn ringlets had spread around her like a burning aura, lighting her warm black eyes and highlighting her pale perfect complexion, stray curls framing her oval shaped face. Thorin's eyes wandered of their own accord to trace the contours of her perfectly straight nose and small, plump, pink mouth with a perfectly shaped chin; before they wandered down to drink in the perfect mixture of curves and muscles.  
Those eyes turned to him, sizing him up as he briefly allowed himself to look at the beautiful woman lying on the ground at his feet.

"See something you like Dwarf?" She asked him archly and he looked away quickly, cursing himself for allowing his eyes to wander.  
With a smirk she handed his dagger back to him and rose to her feet gracefully, surprising Thorin when she only reached his chin at her full height.

"You must have some dwarf in you yourself." He remarked without thinking.

"I'm all elf, Master Dwarf, what of you?" She asked with a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. "Surely your own lineage isn't all Dwarf, I've never seen one so tall."  
Thorin shook his head and then turned to mount his pony.

"The road is that way." He informed her, pointing as he nudged his pony forward.  
The king of the Dwarves rode away without bothering to look back at the tiny elf.  
Two days later Thorin walked out of the river he had just been bathing in to find the same woman kneeling beside his fire stirring a pot of thick, delicious smelling stew.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, holding his bundled up cloak in front of his nether region in an attempt to hide his nudity.

"Cooking our supper." She replied honestly. "You do want to have dinner before you settle down for the night don't you?" Thorin felt himself turning beet red as she calmly sat there stirring at the contents of the pot.

"You've probably poisoned it." He accused her angrily. With a sigh she lifted the spoon to those perfect lips and took a sip.  
After a minute she cast her eyes to him with an impish grin.

"Satisfied master Dwarf?" she rose gracefully to her feet and walked to the stream he had just come from, discarding her boots as she went.  
Thorin swore and fished out his bowl, spooning stew into the bowl until it was filled to the brim.

El stripped down quickly, scrubbing her linen under garments and hanging all her clothes over a branch to dry before slipping into the brisk river to wash herself.  
She walked up from the river wearing just her linens.

Thorin started up in shock and horror as she walked back into his camp.

"Put some clothes on woman!" he ordered without thinking about it.

"Not yet." she shrugged it off, crouching before the fire.  
Before long Thorin found himself looking at her as she filled a bowl with stew for herself.  
She really was quite beautiful, and she seemed unaware of it.  
There was not an ounce of fat on her tiny form, just the way Thorin liked his women.  
Her auburn hair, still damp from her bath, was tied securely away from her face in a low bun that spread around her shoulders and down her back.  
Thorin felt a tiny thrill race through his body as he watched her eat her stew, noticing the delicate way she tore into the flesh of her meal with her small, perfectly even teeth.

When he awoke the next morning the she elf was gone. With a sigh of relief he broke camp quickly and mounted his pony.

El caught up with the dwarf at sunset that day, as he was beginning the descent into a vast, lush valley.

"May I travel with you a while?" She asked him as she walked beside him.

"If I say no you'll probably just follow me." He said sourly, keeping his eyes firmly fixed ahead of him. "I have to make a stop in this valley." He then said curtly as the woman.

"Very well." She murmured softly.


	2. I signed it!

Dúlin glided over the lush vale, easily keeping up with the two travelers directly below him.  
Folding his wings into his body, the bird plummeted like a stone, flaring his wings at the last possible moment and perching on the shoulder of the very tiny woman. Absently his new perch started stroking the feathers on his breast as she spoke to the strange man who rode beside her.

"I don't understand how one being can have such unwarranted hatred for all of my kind." El was saying to her Dwarven companion.

"I have my reasons and I don't have to share them with the likes of you." He snapped, they lapsed into silence.  
In the distance the sound of merry singing reached their ears.

…_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;  
Pound them up with a thumping pole;  
And when you've finished, if they are whole,  
Send them down the hall to roll!  
_

The pair walked through the gate of the dwelling from which the singing was coming from, the Dwarf at El's side dismounted and stepped briskly to the front door, looking at a small glowing sigil marking the door.

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

Thorin kicked the door three times at the end of the song. The elf shivered as all went quiet within the unusual house.  
A moment later an old wizard in a grey robe opened the door.

"Gandalf!" The she elf cried out joyously, launching herself into the aging wizard's arms.

"El, it has been far too long." Gandalf wrapped his arms securely around her waist, returning her enthusiastic hug just as enthusiastically. "And Dúlin is still with you I see."

"Gandalf." Thorin greeted the old wizard with far more poise than the sylvan harlot currently wrapped around the old wizard. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find."  
The dwarf king strode into the hole and looked around, noting with a small amount of surprise that the inside was more than just a hole, but was a well planned out home.  
"I lost my way, twice, and I wouldn't have found it at all if it wasn't for that mark on the door." He pulled his cloak off and dropped it on a chest in the first part of the house.

"Mark? There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!" the hobbit standing in amongst the Dwarves at the door.

"There is a mark." Gandalf replied calmly, putting El on the ground. "I put it there myself." El pouted up at the wizard and she leaned against the doorway.  
Thorin was very aware of the odd looks he was getting from the entire party, even more aware of the look the hobbit was giving El.  
The dwarf was disturbed by the hot flare of jealousy that burned low in his gut. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

"So, this is the hobbit." Thorin remarked coolly, sizing Bilbo up, trying to come across as cool and uncaring while he seethed with irrational jealousy. "Tell me Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" Bilbo asked with a puzzled frown.

"Axe or sword, what is your weapon of choice?" El chimed in from where she stood, choosing to ignore the dark look Thorin cast her way.  
Bilbo turned his eyes to her, earning his own glare from Thorin.

"Well, I do have some skill at conquers, if you must know. But I fail to see why that's relevant." Bilbo answered Thorins' question, never taking his eyes of the elf woman.

"Thought as much." Thorin remarked, turning away from the halfling. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." The other Dwarves all laughed at their leaders' remark. Even Gandalf and El allowed themselves to smile.

"Which part of the Shire do you hail from mistress El?" Bilbo asked her as everyone filed into the dining hall.

"No part master Baggins." she replied softly. "My home is far to the East of here." She smiled at him gently before taking her place behind Thorin in the comfortable room.

"What news from the meeting at Ered Luin?" Balin asked once everyone had found their place. "Did they all come?" Everyone leaned in a little closer, even El, despite herself.

"Aye, and Dwarves from all seven kingdoms." There was an excited stirring among the thirteen Dwarves around the table.

"What do the Dwarves in the iron hills say?" Dwalin asked, peering intently at his leader. "Are they staying with us?" Everyone once again leaned in to hear what Thorin had to say.  
The tall black-haired dwarf took in a deep breath and looked at each dwarf in turn.

"They will not come." The king in exile lowered his eyes as each dwarf groaned unhappily. "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone." El rocked back on her heels, a deep sadness overwhelming her.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked the group curiously.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow," Gandalf suddenly spoke to the hobbit standing behind him. "Let us have a little more light." Baggins almost leapt to comply with the wizard's request. El strode forward and leaned over Thorins' shoulder as the old man pulled out a small map and laid it on the table, allowing everyone to see it clearly when Bilbo held the candle above the table.  
"Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, through woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

"The lonely mountain." Bilbo and El read aloud in unison.

"Aye, Oin has read the portents." Gloin stated gravely. "And the portents say; it is time."

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain." Oin spoke up, looking at each person in the room. "As it was foretold: When the birds of Aulë return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."  
Bilbo, who had left the room to brood over his misfortune of having to host thirteen starves, an elf and a wizard, suddenly spoke up from the doorway.

"uh, what beast?" The hobbit asked.

"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible." Bofur spoke up, pulling his pipe from between his teeth. "Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age."

"Air born fire breather." El added in a matter of fact tone of voice. "Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks."

"Extremely fond of precious metals." Bofur completed the description before clamping the pipe back between his teeth.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo snapped.  
Ori jumped up and looked around at everyone surrounding him.

"I'm not afraid!" He declared defiantly. "I'm up for it, I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish Iron right up his Jaxy!" El smiled tolerantly as Dori dragged Ori back down to his seat and the others groaned at his defiance.

"Sit down." Dori snapped at the young dwarf.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us." Balin said calmly. "But we number just thirteen." He looked around at everyone as he spoke.  
"We're not thirteen of the best, nor brightest." The latter statement causing a stir of discontent among the gathered starves.  
Fili slammed his hand down on the table to get the attention of everyone in the room, casting his blue eyes around the room, alighting on each person briefly.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters." He announced proudly. "All of us; to the last one." He slammed his hand down when he said last to emphasize his point.

"And you forget;" Kili added animatedly, his eyes moving restlessly around the room. "We have a wizard in our midst. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!" Everyone turned to look at Gandalf, who started trying to object.

"How many then?" Came the question, earning Dori a confused look. "How many dragons have you killed?" The gray-haired dwarf elaborated.  
Gandalf started choking on the smoke from his pipe as they all looked at him intently, all except El who was standing behind Thorin, her eyes moving restlessly around the room, stopping every few seconds to rest on the dwarf king. "Go on! Give us a number!"  
Everyone began arguing.

"Oh, no, please. Please!" Bilbo made a futile attempt at getting everyone's attention.

"No more!" El and Thorin cried hoarsely as the latter started to his feet.

"If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too?" Thorin continued, El stepped forward, standing slightly to his right, aware of the odd looks each dwarf gave her.

"Rumours have begun to spread." She piped up in her clear voice. "The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years." Thorin looked at her in amazement, as if she had known what she was about to say.

"Eyes look east to the mountain; assessing, wondering." He added once he had regained his momentarily lost composure.  
She knew too much, she would have to come with them. "Weighing the risk." he continued, allowing his eyes to roam over the group. "Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back, while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" He demanded, his answer came in the collective affirmative cry of the twelve other Dwarves in the room.

"You forget. The front gate is sealed." Balin spoke, the voice of reason. "There is no way into the mountain." They all sat back down again, defeat dulling their eyes.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf corrected sagely, producing a key from the folds of his robe and holding it up to show everyone in the room.  
Thorin stared at it in wonder.

"How came you by this?" he breathed.

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safe keeping." El spoke softly. "I gave it to Gandalf because I believed it would be safest with him." Thorin looked at the tiny elf in disbelief.

"It is yours now." Gandalf said, handing the Dwarf king the only key that would get him back into his home.

"If there is a key, there must be a door." Fili said, frowning at Gandalf.  
El read the runes on the left side of the map.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage." Gandalf said calmly, pointing with his pipe to the bottom of the drawing of the lonely mountain.

"To the lower halls." She added softly.

"There's another way in." Kili chimed in with a hopeful smile on his open, honest face.

"If we can find it." Gandalf voiced, peering intently at the young dwarf. "Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it." He sighed unhappily.

"There are those in Middle Earth that do have that skill." El spoke up calmly. "I can leave messages in such a manner, but I can't for the life of me find them again."

"Where did you learn to do that?" Gandalf asked curiously.

"My mother taught me, she was teaching me to find them again when I left."

"The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage." Gandalf said getting back to the reason for the meeting, looking pointedly at Bilbo. "But if they are careful, and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar." Ori said, finally catching on to what they were all talking about.

"hmm." Bilbo snorted. "And a good one too." He looked at them all before starting to turn away. "An expert I'd imagine."

"And are you?" Dori asked s they all turned to look at the little man. Bilbo looked over his shoulder then back at the Dwarrows before him.

"Am I what?" The hobbit asked.

"He said he's an expert!" Oin exclaimed happily, clearly having misheard what was said, even as he held his hearing horn up to his ear.

"What? Me?" Bilbo asked. "No, no, no. I'm not a burglar!" The halfling denied fervently. "I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr Baggins." Balin spoke up, looking shrewdly at the hobbit. "He's hardly burglar material."

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin agreed, also looking shrewdly at Bilbo, who nodded his head, gesturing in the Dwarf's general direction, everyone in the room seemed to be agreeing with that assessment of the portly little creature.

"Enough!" Gandalf snapped, rising to his feet, seeming to swell and fill the room.  
His shadow appeared to grow wide, darkening the room. "If I say Mr Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is." Even his voice seemed to swell, and then it was gone. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet." He continued more calmly. "in fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose, and while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him."

"Which gives you a distinct advantage." El completed for the old wizard.

"You speak as if you will not be coming with us." Thorin twisted to look at her with a raised eyebrow."

"I will be leaving your company before you reach the border of Mirkwood." El replied calmly. "There are people there I wish to avoid."

"You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company." Gandalf told Thorin as he sat down. "I have chosen Mr Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearance would suggest and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know not even himself."The grizzled old wizard leaned forward, his eyes boring into Thorin's. "You must trust me on this."

"Very well." Thorin acquiesced softly. "We will do it your way. Balin, give him a contract."

"Just the usual, summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements and so forth." The white-haired dwarf held out a piece of parchment which Thorin took and handed to Bilbo.

"Funeral arrangements?" The hobbit asked with a small amount of alarm as he turned away, unfolding the parchment to read what was written on it.  
Thorin leaned towards Gandalf and whispered something that El didn't manage to hear.

"Understood." The wizard responded slightly louder than the dwarf that was whispering in his ear. "Agreed." The wizard replied just as softly as he had a moment ago.

"Terms, cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit if any. Seems fair." Bilbo noted as he continued to read the contract. "The company shall not be liable for any injuries inflicted by or sustained as a result that are included but limited to; lacerations, evisceration?" He said the last word with some alarm, unfolding a side sheet and continuing to read, is concern growing further. He looked disbelievingly at the assembled Dwarves. "Incineration!?" He asked, looking a bit faint.

"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur said cheerfully, causing the hobbit to lose all colour from his already pale cheeks.

"You all right laddie?" Balin asked sympathetically as Bilbo leaned down on his knees, trying to breathe.

"You need to straighten up Bilbo." El offered helpfully, helping the man to straighten up. "Now breathe, in through the nose, and out through the mouth." She exaggerated her own breathing, encouraging him to follow suit.

"I feel a bit faint." Bilbo admitted, looking at the ground and leaning heavily on the miniscule sylvan woman.

"Think furnace with wings!" Bofur supplied, playing with Bilbo's already wrecked nerves. The hobbit straightened up and looked at the dwarf who was now standing in the doorway, peering intently at the little man in front of him.

"I-I need air." Bilbo rubbed under his nose, looking even more faint than he had just seconds ago.

"flash of light. Searing pain then poof!" Bofur said, keeping his face perfectly straight as he delivered this information in a matter of fact tone of voice. "You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"  
Bilbo squared his shoulders, looked at El, then looked back at Bofur.

"Nope." He announced and promptly fainted.

"Bilbo!" El exclaimed, on her knees beside him in an instant, trying to rouse him

"Oh very helpful Bofur." Gandalf grumbled, getting up to assist the fallen hobbit.

"I'll be alright." Bilbo assured the wizard standing in the doorway, nursing the cup of tea in his hands. "I just need to sit quietly for a minute."

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long." Gandalf accused the hobbit, walking further into the room. "Tell me, when did doilies, and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of elves in the woods. Who would stay out late and come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and flies, a young hobbit who would like nothing more to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire."  
El leaned in the doorway the old man had only recently vacated, simply listening to him speak. "the world isn't in your books." Gandalf added, his voice deepening. "It's out there."

"I can't just go running off into the blue." Bilbo retorted. "I am a Baggins, of Bag End." He spread his fingers wide, holding his hand palm down and pushing it down slightly as if to plant his hand in mid-air.

"You are also a Took." Gandalf iterated to the young hobbit. Bilbo tilted his head to lean the edge of his crown against the back of his armchair. "Did you know that your great great great great uncle Bull roarer Took was so large he could ride a real horse?" Bilbo sighed and looked at the grey wanderer.

"El." Thorin said quietly behind her. "A word." The petite woman looked over her shoulder at him and nodded, pushing off from the wall and following him to the front door.  
Thorin held the door for her, pulling it shut behind him as he followed her outside into the cool night air.

"What is it my lord?" El asked softly as she turned to face him.

"Be honest and tell me how you came by that key." Thorin ordered coldly, refusing to beat around the bush with her.

"I came across Thrain as he lay dying on the battle field." El murmured, thinking back to that day.

_Disguised as a Dwarven woman, the elf hauled the heavy axe out of the body of the orc she had just cut down, staggering away from the field of carnage, knowing she would have to slip away before her identity was revealed.  
Turning to look at Thorin she saw something moving behind him, ignoring the need to leave the battle field she ran towards the threat to the prince of the Dwarves. She heard a dissonant battle cry, slightly surprised to find that she was the one making it.  
The prince looked up at her and readied himself for another skirmish, shocked when the small woman literally leaped over him and engaged in fierce battle with the orc that had tried to kill the heir to the throne of Erebor.  
Her axe was knocked out of her hand, the massive creature howled in triumph before he tried to fell her with a single stroke of his wicked sword.  
However, she had already drawn her sword, certain it would reveal her race to all of the survivors, and Thorin was already moving to take the fight from what he must have thought was one of his many kinswomen._

"_I will take it from here little sister." Thorin assured her as he shoved her out of his way. She sheathed her sword and slipped away, disappearing from view of the survivors.  
It took several hours for her to reach the edge of the field, and when she did she could not have been happier.  
The false beard she wore was driving her insane, as was the stiff padding she wore under her armour, she was about to tear the beard off, but something made her stop.  
Looking around it didn't take long for her to find out what had caused her to pause. Thrain was struggling to reach the edge of the woods, the broken blade of an Orcish sword lodged deep into his back, knowing she could trust him with her secret she tore off her disguise and rushed to help the dying king._

"_My lord, let me help you." she crooned to him._

"_No." Thrain gasped. "Take this, give it to, to my son, when, when the time is right." the ailing man pressed something cold, metallic and heavy into her small hand. "Do this for me Lady Falathiel, take it Thorin."_

"_How will I know?" she asked, but his eyes had already dulled and the air left his lungs in a long, chilling rattle, and King Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain, was no more._

"It appears we have lost our burglar." Balin announced wearily from the doorway, jolting El back to the present."Probably for the best, the odds were always against us, after all, what are we?" He looked through the front door at the portly Bombur as he waddled out of the bathroom. "Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy makers; hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors amongst us." Thorin said with a small, pointed smile at Balin.

"Old warriors." Balin murmured softly, looking down.

"I will take each and every one of these Dwarves over an army from the iron hills." Thorin declared, stepping towards his old friend. "For when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty, honour, a willing heart. I cannot ask for more than that."

"You don't have to do this." Balin told his king and friend, placing one hand on the younger dwarfs' shoulder. "You have a choice. You've done honourably, by our people." Looking intently into Thorin's eyes, Balin continued. "You have built a new life for us in the blue mountains. A life of peace and plenty, a life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me." Thorin said, holding up the key. "They dreamed of the day when the Dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice Balin." He pocketed the key, looking at his boots. "Not for me." El looked sadly at the rightful king of Erebor.

Balin nodded quietly as he spoke: "Then we are with you laddie." The sylvan woman placed a tentative hand on Thorin's shoulder, trying to communicate silently that she too, supported the cause of the Dwarrows of Erebor. "We will see it done." Balin promised him.

Bofur came up to the three with the look of a gambler in his eyes.

"Every one is taking bets on whether or no Master Baggins will join our adventure." The be-hatted dwarf announced. "Are any of you willing to bet something?" He looked hopefully at each of them.

"I'll bet fifty gold he'll be joining us tomorrow." Balin wagered confidently.

"I'll wager my last fourteen gold pieces he'll join your party before we reach the border of the Shire tomorrow morning." El announced calmly.

"Fourteen gold says he won't join our quest." Thorin growled, not knowing why he did. "If he shows in the time from the elf has allowed I'll give my bet to her. If he doesn't show at all she gives hers to me." Bofur smiled brightly before stepping aside to allow Thorin past him.  
El followed the other two Dwarves inside, seeing the others gathered in the parlour of the hobbit-hole.  
Softly at first, but gradually deepening, each of the men in the room began to intone a deep hum, then Thorin began to sing when the humming steadied and became the tune.

"_Far over, the misty mountains cold;  
To dungeons deep, and caverns old.  
We must away, 'ere break of day;  
To find our long forgotten gold."_

Everyone looked at the elvish woman as her heartbreakingly clear and sweet mezzo-soprano voice met Thorin's rumbling bass, creating a perfect counterpoint for the second verse of the song.  
Gradually more Dwarves joined the mournful song, until only four were left intoning in a minor key.

"_The pines were roaring, on the height;  
The winds were moaning, in the night.  
The fire was red, it flaming spread;  
The trees like torches, blazed with light." _

They set off at dawn the next morning, Thorin pulling El up onto his pony in front of him.

"To make certain she does not try to run." He told the others when asked why he would take an elf up before him in the saddle.  
The party left an immaculately clean hobbit hole, leaving only the contract where it had been dropped when Bilbo had fainted.  
It was mid morning when they heard the hobbit's cries behind them.

"Wait! Wait!" The little man cried from behind the travellers.  
Thorin raised his hand for a halt and they all stopped and looked back at Bilbo as he stumbled up to them. "I signed it." He announced proudly, holding the contract up for all to see before handing it to Balin for inspection.  
Pulling out an eye-glass, holding it to his eye and straightening the parchment the white-haired dwarf looked at Bilbo's signature on the parchment closely.

"Everything appears to be in order." He announced to the others, folding up the parchment and putting it away, scrutinising Bilbo as he did.  
Gandalf was smiling mysteriously at the newest addition to the team and Thorin began to count out the gold he owed to the elf he held in his lap sourly "Welcome Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

**A/N: Hello, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
I've been driving my boyfriend totally and irrefutably insane just by playing the relevant scenes from the movie just to make certain I didn't miss anything. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing, please my dearly belov'd readers, review it. Padshii out**


	3. Memoirs from Moria

**A/N: Hey guys, here's chapter three, let me know what you think, I truly hope you enjoy it.**

Bilbo rode his horse uncomfortably, seemingly afraid of the docile creature.  
El looked back at him sympathetically over Thorin's heavily muscled shoulder.

"Sit still woman." The Dwarf snapped, jolting her so that she sat back in the saddle unhappily.

"Can I at least ride behind you?" She demanded irritably after several minutes of silent riding.

"No." came the curt reply.

"Stop!" Bilbo called from the middle of the small column. "We have to turn around!"

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked, El sat up straighter, frowning as Thorin turned the pony they shared around.

"I forgot my handkerchief." Bilbo exclaimed unhappily.  
El rolled her eyes and twisted herself around Thorin, reaching for her pack, pulling out a clean rag.  
Thorin sighed in irritation, shifting her in his lap as she wriggled back around until she was once again seated in front of him.

"Use this." She called at the same time Bofur did, both throwing a cloth each at the halfling.  
Bilbo quickly discarded the one Bofur had thrown, blowing his nose rather noisily on the pristine white one.

"What is that rag for?" Thorin asked curiously despite himself once they were moving again, shifting the woman to his other leg.

"Cleaning the blood off of a blade." El replied casually with a shrug. "Did you want to move me around behind you now?" She looked up at him innocently.  
Thorin swore and shifted her around behind him, hating his reaction to her natural floral scent.

El slid from the saddle when Thorin called a halt, meandering into the woods surrounding the forest, easily remembering where the camp was.  
She found a tree that she felt was suitably separate from the camp and relieved herself, sighing contentedly as her bladder swiftly emptied itself. Righting her trousers she started to walk back to the camp; the rather thick fallen tree that was embedded in the soft ground of the forest floor had seemed sound enough when she put her foot on it tentatively, but when she went to step onto it to go over the great big log it crumbled under her slight weight, with a startled cry of pain El landed heavily on her small right foot, feeling the dainty ankle snap.  
As she landed she felt the sweet oblivion of pain induced unconsciousness closing in.

Thorin looked around the camp, seeing that the she elf had not returned to the camp.

Wordlessly he stalked out of the camp in the direction he had seen her go; muttering foul epithets under his breath as he went.  
When he found her she was passed out in the remains of a rotting log, her ankle sitting at an odd angle, clearly broken.  
He picked her up, hauling her over his shoulders and preparing to carry her like that back to the camp, starting when he felt something heavy hit his boot, with a frown he picked up the locket, the only thing he could tell about it in the dark of the forest surrounding them was that it was of Dwarvish make, running his thumb over the fine carvings of the delicate seeming oval, he felt the Khuzdul runes for love, protection and unity, it was a beautifully carved piece of metal, probably given to her by her parents, many like it were commissioned for their beauty, it was a common gift, nothing like the jewels that were given as betrothal and wedding gifts.  
Carefully he set her down and draped the chain around her neck, tucking it back into her vest before e picked her up, this time cradling her against his chest.

El awoke with a groan, frowning when she felt strong sure arms around her tiny body, her ear was pressed up against soft furs, and under that she could hear the steady da-dum of her bearers heart.  
"The elf awakens." Thorin noted with a soft growl. "You didn't get very far did you?"

"I didn't try to escape." She murmured, resting her head on his shoulder trustingly. "I was on my way back to camp when that log broke under me."

Back at camp Thorin placed her down gently, stepping aside to allow Gandalf to have a look at her ankle.

"First we must get this boot off." The old wizard stated calmly, looking to Thorin and nodding.  
The dwarf king sat on top of El and gripped her right leg, just above the boot. Pulling a bit of cloth off his sleeve and wadding it into a ball, Gandalf held it to El's lips.  
"Bite down on this El." The wizard told her, the elf opened her mouth obediently accepting the gag and then nodding to Thorin who quickly whipped the boot off, ignoring the heart wrenching shriek of pain, that could not possibly have been dampened by the rag, as her ankle was jostled. "Don't move away just yet Thorin." Gandalf counselled the younger man. "I have to set her ankle and then bind it." Thorin nodded wordlessly and stayed where he was, seated on top of her pelvis.  
Bilbo surreptitiously moved closer to the elf and took her hand tenderly, wincing each time she involuntarily squeezed his hand while the old wizard laboured at her ankle.

"You're quite strong for a hobbit, did you know that mistress El?" Bilbo asked her causing everyone around to look at him in surprise.

"She's not a hobbit." Thorin said darkly while he helped Gandalf to bind her ankle.  
El removed the rag from her mouth before wiping the sweat off her brow with her wrist. She then looked up and smiled reassuringly to the nightingale that followed her.

"I'm alright Dúlin." She assured the creature lovingly as she held a shaking hand out to him. The pretty little brown bird alighted on her outstretched fingertip and she pulled him close to her body, giving him a brief kiss on his little beak.

Later that night Gandalf sat beside Thorin, who broodingly watched the sleeping El.

"Her ankle will heal sooner if she can spend even one night in the care of her people's healers." The old wizard told his friend. "Imladrys is only three days from here."

"I'll not go to the elves." Thorin spat bitterly.

"You would spend weeks having to coddle one of the very creatures you profess to hate just to avoid going to the very people who would heal her?" The old wizard asked softly.

El made a small distressed sound in her sleep and reached for someone in her sleep, whispering something in her silvery voice. "I leave it to you to decide Thorin Oakenshield, just mind that she won't be able to make it through the mountains wounded as she is." Thorin nodded curtly as Ori got up to take the next watch.

"Thank you for bringing that to my attention." He said as he rose, walking to the blankets he now, somewhat reluctantly, shared with the elf.

El was woken the next morning to Thorin peeling her off of him like one might peel an item of sodden clothing from their body.  
Moving gingerly, the king of the Dwarrows walked into the wilderness a ways. El watched him until he was out of sight, starting when Bifur came up behind her, holding out a crude, sturdy looking crutch, saying something in Khuzdul that she didn't understand.

"What is he saying?" She asked looking around at the other Dwarrows in the camp.

"He says he made you that crutch so you could get around the camp." Bombur spoke up from beside the fire. "He would like you to try it out." El smiled her thanks as she took the crutch, trying to pull herself up using it.  
She fell back heavily as the wood splintered under the suddenly added weight. Speaking in the only tongue he knew, Bifur apologised profusely to the small elven woman, helping her to her feet.  
They were all sitting down enjoying left over stew before packing up the camp when Thorin walked back in, moving more easily now.

"Pack up, we're moving out." The leader of the company said curtly, easily picking up El and carrying her to the nag they shared.  
The tiny elf leaned easily against the rump, watching the tall, handsome dwarf as he saddled the pony. "You'll ride in front of me until your ankle heals." He told her curtly, tossing her up onto the back of the creature's back before tying on their packs and mounting behind her.  
They left the clearing in the grey light of false dawn.  
Thorin was surprised to find El snuggling closer to his warm fur-clad body, shivering despite how hot she was. "Gandalf!" He called to the wizard who was riding back with the Hobbit.  
The grey pilgrim cantered up the line with Bilbo in tow.

"How long have you been away from your people?" Gandalf asked her after briefly feeling her forehead.

"Eighty years, and I won't go back." She said around a snuffle. "I will heal Mithrandil, this is not the first time I have become ill." The old wizard frowned at her reprovingly but instead of speaking to her he turned his attention to Thorin.

"She needs shelter." The dwarf nodded wordlessly, staring blindly into the sodden forest ahead of them.

They found a sheltered bluff, setting up for the night.  
Gandalf checked El's ankle and filled a small kettle with water to boil. "Get a fire going, I need boiling water." He impatiently ordered the hovering Thorin.

El was pleasantly numb from the foul tasting tea Gandalf had made her drink.  
She drifted into a heavy slumber after the old wizard had spooned some of Bombur's delicious stew into her. The other dwarrows left her alone, seeing the dark looks their leader gave them every time he caught one glance at the woman.  
It was the distant orc cries that stirred her out of her drugged stupor.

"What was that?" Bilbo asked Thorin's nephews with some alarm. El looked up at the still drowsing Thorin who sat on a small ledge that formed a perfect seat for him, propped against the naturally occurring wall they camped in the shadow of.

"Orcs." Kili murmured softly.

Orcs?" Bilbo demanded, his already high voice more than a little shrill, rousing Thorin, he sat up straighter and looked around before looking at the fearful woman at his feet.

"Throat cutters." Fili added. "There'll be dozens of them out there; the lowlands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep." Kili added, his gaze flicking to El when she struggled to sit up. "Quick and quiet, no screams." He continued, turning his gaze back to the frightened hobbit. "Just lots of blood."

"Enough." El said, surprised at how steady her voice was in comparison to how badly she was shaking.  
The brothers laughed together when Bilbo looked in the directions the harsh calls had come from.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin demanded of his nephews, rising in one smooth movement. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

Kili looked down in dismay.

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili apologised to his uncle.

"No you didn't." Thorin said, the threat in his voice barely veiled. "You know nothing of the world."  
Balin walked over to the brothers and leaned against the stone.

"Don't mind him laddies." The elderly dwarf counselled the two young men. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs.  
Fili looked at his uncle thoughtfully as Balin spoke to the two brothers; El pulled herself up so that she was standing, balanced easily on one foot. The old dwarf looked over at her in silent askance but she shook her head.

"After the dragon took the lonely mountain, king Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first.  
Moria had been taken by legions of orcs, led by the most vile of all their race; Azog, the defiler." Balin spoke of the battle and El leaned against the rock, remembering that battle.

_El cut down yet another orc, slowly but surely making her way to the king, refusing to give any thought to her aching muscles or the salty sweat drenching her thick clothing, making the handle of her Dwarvish blade slippery and hard to handle. The false beard itched, providing another minor distraction that she easily ignored.  
The pale orc stood a full head over his follower, easily seen as he made his way to the old dwarf._

"_Lesle!" One dwarf called, drawing her attention for a split second before she continued towards Thror.  
The tiny woman looked away from the two combatants to defeat one of the countless orcs they were trying desperately to defeat.  
With a great bellow, Azog the defiler held up the head of Thror, king under the mountain.  
El dropped to her knees, a discordant ululating howl of disconsolate desolation rising from her elegant throat.  
The dwarf king who had been as another well beloved grandfather was now dead, his head rolling down the hillock that his body was slowly crumpling in a sorry looking heap atop of.  
Dimly she heard a similar wail across from her and she forced herself to her feet rejoining the battle with renewed vigour, vowing to protect what remained of the line of Durin with her life.  
She ran towards the Gundabad orc, wiping out any orc who got in her way, as one swatting insects; it was Thorin who got to him first, the sylvan woman fought harder: Silently begging Aulë to protect Thorin as she cut her way to him.  
The ear piercing howl is what made her look up to see Azog staring in horror at the freely bleeding stump of his left arm, stumbled back several steps and fell to his knees, cradling his arm.  
Several smaller orcs rushed to their fallen leader and hurried him back inside the mines. Thorin rallied what remained of the dwarvish army and forced the orcs into a retreat._


	4. Rituals in Heart Hollow

El awoke several hours before dawn, a rather urgent, aching pressure in her lower belly announcing to the sylvan woman what had roused her from slumber.

"Thorin." the tiny elf hissed, shifting in the sleeping dwarf's powerful arms to stare at him.  
He growled something unintelligible and jerked her closer to him before settling back into sleep. "Thorin." she tried again, slightly louder this time.  
His only response was a loud snort as he rolled onto back, dragging El up onto his chest. The third time she pushed herself up with one arm and punched his sternum. Thorin Oakenshield sat up straight, pushing her off of him to land in an undignified sprawl beside him. "I need to relieve myself." She whispered, sitting up and looking at him earnestly.  
The dwarf king lifted her up and carried her around the bluff and down to some bushes nearby. El gingerly set her foot on the ground as her dainty hands loosened the ties of her trousers, thankful that Thorin had turned around and was humming a merry little tune under his breath so she could have a semblance of privacy while she urinated. She rose, fixing her clothes and hopping towards Thorin when she finished.

"Are you ready?" He asked as she came to a stop behind him.

"Yes." she murmured, waiting patiently as he turned around to lift her up. He carried her back up the hill, tripping on a root he didn't see in time, landing on top of her torso, her legs tucked to the side.  
El looked into his vivid eyes, barely breathing, afraid to break the intimacy of the moment.  
Then Thorin's lips were crushed against hers, his tongue forcing her mouth open, his beard scratched the delicate flesh of her cheeks. El's fingers wound into the dwarf's long hair and she kissed him back just as frantically, she felt his hand slide under her linen camisole, hyper aware of his fingers kneading the delicate flesh in the cradle of her hips, toying with the waistband of her breeches.  
A small cough above the pair was like frigorific water being dunked on them. Thorin sprang away from her and looked up at Bofur who was eyeing his king and the elf lying on the ground at Thorin's feet curiously.  
Thorin picked El up and strode up to where Bofur was watching them curiously.

"If you want some privacy I'm quite happy to go away." The cheerful dwarf said as Thorin came to a standstill before him.  
El quickly wrapped her arms around the be-hatted dwarf's neck when the dwarven king shoved her into the other dwarf's arms and stalked away stiffly. "What was that all about?" Bofur asked the woman in his arms as he carried her back into the camp.

"It was nothing." El lied quickly.

"Come along mistress El, it was clearly something." The dwarf carrying her probed.

"It doesn't matter." She insisted stubbornly, highly conscious of the slow flush spreading up her cheeks and staining the tips of her pointed ears.  
Bofur looked at her intently and she cursed the scattered cloud cover for not hiding the luminous moon.

\/

The rain started at noon the next day, a changeless, streaming downpour, that soaked into everything.

"Here, Mister Gandalf?" Dori called up to the wizard at the head of the short column of riders. "Can't you do something about this deluge?" El looked over Bifur's shoulder at her old friend with a knowing smile.

"It is raining, Master dwarf." the grizzled old wizard responded, tilting his head back to look ahead at the road. "And it will continue to rain until the rain is done!" He nodded his head firmly and fell silent.

"If you wish to change the weather of the world you should find yourself another wizard." El piped up from her place behind Kili, ignoring the glare Thorin sent her way.

"Are there any?" Bilbo called to Gandalf suddenly.

"Any what?" The grey wanderer asked over his shoulder.

"Other wizards?" Came the reedy reply.

"What of you my lady?" Fili asked from beside his brother, capturing the flighty attention of the small woman. "Could you change the weather?"

"I've never tried it." She replied softly. "My talents are dangerous and taxing enough without adding more onto them."

"What are they?" Kili asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

"'Tis not important young Kili." She evaded the young man's probing uneasily.  
She looked ahead, staring pensively in Thorin's general direction. The tiny she elf had freely given her secrets away to a dwarf once and had been repaid with the scorn of her people.  
Dúlin glided up to the pair, tittering in distress. El looked sharply at the little bird. "Ed' i'ear ar' elenea!" She exclaimed. "Mani mart?"

~By the sea and stars! What happened?~  
She listened to the bird for several strained seconds. "Sut?"  
~How?~

"What is it?" Kili and Fili asked together, not liking the distressed tone of her voice.

"It's nothing to concern you." She said quickly. "It concerns the beasts of the area. Thorin!" The leader of the company simply looked back at her, his expression inscrutable. "The heart of the forest needs my attention, it will only take a few minutes."

"Where is it?" Thorin asked wearily, already turning his pony to continue.

"Kili, would you mind if we came abreast of your, uncle?" El, breathed a silent sigh of relief when the young dwarf seemed to not notice the minute hesitation in her speech.  
Without question the young man nudged the nag forward until the elf was able to comfortably converse with the king of Erebor. "The turn off that I want is just up here." She said, indicating the start of a game trail. "The Taur' amandil of this forest left last Faradome and did not return." She explained to the dwarf. "I have a responsibility to the earth as Taur' amandil."  
By this point they had all stopped and Gandalf had joined the trio where they stood.

"I will take her." The old man offered.

"Thank you Mellonamin." El smiled graciously at him, already sliding from the pony's back, landing lightly on her unbroken ankle and hopping around the little horse to be pulled up in front of Gandalf on his horse.

"I will go with you." Thorin said sternly, nudging his pony forward.

"No!" El cried quickly. The Dwarves all looked at her suspiciously. "It is much too dangerous. I will tolerate Gandalf's presence because he has his own ways of protecting himself." El, waited tensely as she watched Thorin Oakenshield think her answer through.  
She let out an explosive breath when he nodded. "The horse will have to wait outside the heart hollow." She told the old wizard as he nudged the horse towards the narrow game trail.

"What are you playing at Falathiel?" Gandalf demanded in a low voice once they were out of earshot of the Dwarves. "Hiding your identity from Thorin of all people. The elves I can understand, but him?"

"I have my reasons Mithrandil, just trust me." The elf replied softly, looking around at the trees.

"He has a right to know that you are travelling with him, he has a right to recognise you for that matter." The old wizard scolded her.

"Dîna! Speak no more of what you cannot hope to understand Mithrandil." El snapped, turning her face away from him to hide the tears welling in her luminous black eyes. "You will stand with your horse just outside Heart Hollow." Gandalf nodded once, coming to a stop.

"How do you intend to get into the hollow?" The old man asked as he dismounted and helped her down.

"I'll crawl if I have to, Mithrandil." She responded, gingerly testing her injured ankle. "As long as I enter the hollow unaided it will be enough for them, theoretically anyway." Satisfied with the amount of weight she was able to put on the ankle she squared her shoulders and looked calmly into the forest in front of her. "I would appreciate your help in leaving it again though, even in perfect health the ritual leaves all of the Taur' amandil severely weakened, and I'm healing rather slowly from a rather unfortunate and humiliating accident." The grey pilgrim nodded with a knowing smile.

\/

Thorin watched the old wizard and the small elf until they were out of sight.  
Something about her hounded at his subconscious, unfortunately every time he tried to examine it and figure it out something else came to his attention and he completely forgot about it.  
He wasn't sure what it was that made him do it, but he dismounted from his pony and followed her down the game trail.  
His feet unerringly finding the path the wizard and the elf had taken, dimly hearing the questions of his companions.

"Wait there." He said, the sound of his voice reaching his own ears as if carried on the wind and through water.

The earth itself seemed to guide the dwarf king's steps, burning whispers told him he would find what he wanted if he followed her then.

El quickly discarded her clothes, reveling in the song of the land and forest as the gentle breeze caressed her sky clad flesh, plucking at the long silky tresses of her hair, turning that thick burnished auburn wealth into an elegant gossamer gown.  
Mentally steeling herself the small sylvan woman walked into the heart of the forest, ignoring the excruciating barbs of white hot agony that reached with seeking fingers to freeze her fluttering heart in her narrow chest.  
She looked around the hollow, seeing the alabaster ring surrounding an ancient thriving oak.

"Aaye Yaaraer, vanimle sila tiri." She greeted the ancient sentinel. "Elen sila lumenn omentilmo." with a smile she walked up to the tree, caressing the rough bark with gentle, loving finger tips.

~Hail ancient one, your beauty shines bright. A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting.~ The little elf tilted her head back with a radiant smile on her face as she simply listened the soft rustling of the oak's branches.  
Gleaning more from the soft whisperings on the lazy breeze and benign throbbing beneath her feet and hand, than any could hope to learn in ten million years.  
Underlying this muted, sighing song the question, a sibilant humming that undulated through her entire being, rested unasked. "Amin naa arwen en lle Falathiel taur' amandil en' Erebor." She murmured to the forest. "Amin naa tualle sina'rï." There was a soft chirr of acknowledgement as the forest recognised her.

~I am your lady Falathiel, druid of Erebor. I am your servant this day.~

'lye engwar, Taur' amandil en' Erebor. Ta awraea.' El listened to the murmured plea, tears shining, unshed in her wide bright eyes. ~we are ill, druid of Erebor. It hurts.~

"I wish to help your children and to make you well again, Iantatar." She whispered, pressing a loving kiss to the trunk of the oak. ~old father.~

Gliding around the tree until she stood to the north, and she could see what she had been seeking, a weathered old stone that was covered in moss, it sat wedged in the ground, perfectly round with the stain of purifying salt surrounding it. "A'tel' For, tel' beleg ondo ar' kemen." As she spoke she traced the sindarin words for north and stone on vertically on the stone itself, smiling when she saw the white lines that marked the magic sigils on the actual stone and felt the increased throbbing of the forest's heart beat.  
~To the North, the strong stone and earth.~

Turning to the east she followed the white line of the sacred circle, highly aware of the trail of light following each step she took. "A'tel' Rhun, tel' vilya ar' sul." stopping at the second circle of salt she traced the sigils for east and air at eye level, hearing the song of the forest rise in ecstasy, the earthy throbbing bass of the rich, healthy loam beneath her feet and the languid, sighing voice of the wind.

The light of the circle increased in its gentle brilliance, the aura from the newly added sigils bleeding back to tie themselves to the sigils of the first pair.

~To the east, the air and wind.~  
El turned and followed the curved line to the next point in the circle, south. "At'tel' Har, tel' runya naaratiri amin seler'." again she traced the sigils over the charred, blackened earth, flinching involuntarily when incandescent orange flames leapt to life, dancing in the easterly breeze, heedless of the constant, steady rain.  
El watched as the flames weaved themselves into the lines of bright magic, circling the other two circles.

~To the south, the flame, burn bright my sister.~  
Around she continued, following the line until she stood at the westernmost circle, a small, perfectly circular pool of clear, cold water. "A'tel' numen, tel' alu, merka, lle sira." the final sigils were traced and the song of the forest rang out, a loving quartet, the sonorous pounding of the earth, the breathy murmur of the wind, the harsh cackles from the flames and the tumbling babbling of the water, rising up in joyous song.  
~to the west, the water wild, you flow.~

El walked to the first point, reveling in the beauty of the magicka that sang and danced around her.  
Sprites and dryads normally invisible to the naked eye now freely danced at the edge of the circle, their small naked bodies glistening in the brilliance of the white light that surrounded the elf and the oak as she completed the circle.

Earth, Air, Fire and Water combined, strengthening the protection of the circle.

"I call upon the watchtower of the guardian of the north, Iantara Kemen, old mother earth, I beg of thee, bless this circle." She cried, dropping to her knees and pressing her hands into the soil.  
The fathomless resonance of the earth increased, drowning out all other sound, binding the strength of the earth into the sacred space.  
Rising again, she walked to the eastern most part of the circle and flung her arms wide, encompassing everything in her loving embrace. "I call upon the watchtower of the guardian of the east, Iantar Vilya, old father air, I beseech thee, bless this circle."  
The murmuring of the wind became a deafening scream as the wind too, bound itself even tighter to the circle.  
Allowing her arms to drop, El danced in sheer ecstasy towards the south of the circle and thrust her arms into the flames.  
"I call upon the watchtower of the guardian of the south, Iantar Runya, old father fire, I ask thee, bless this circle." The flames leaped and danced in response, roaring a hot affirmative, adding to the circle.  
The elf pulled her burnt, unfeeling hands from the fire and walked at a more sedate pace to the small pool of water in the west. Thrusting her hands into the water she closed her eyes, feeling the searing pain of the fire as it was quenched, the loving water healing them mercifully.  
"I call upon the watchtower of the guardian of the west, Iantara Alu, old mother water, I entreat thee, bless this circle." The bubbly voice of the water whispered in her ears sweetly as it wove itself through the other three elements, binding them together in the circle.  
Rising once again, El lumbered to the north again, running gentle fingers over the stone before moving to go around the circle once more.  
"Thrice around widdershins, bind the circle and all within, For, Rhun, Har, Numen, North, South, East, West, Kemen, Vilya, Runya, Alu.  
Let all be done with harm to none." El finished the ritual of binding, coming to a standstill to the north of the old oak tree.

\/

Thorin watched El from the edge of the hollow, seeing her graceful, sensuous movements as she bound the circle.  
He found himself wanting to go to her in that circle of enchantment and claim her as his own but he watched, not sure why he did not move from his hiding place.

The dwarf king, had come to the edge of Heart Hollow just as the she elf had started that ritual.

"Yala onna en' kemen." She cried suddenly, startling the dwarf. He cried out in shock as the oak tree twisted ponderously, forming a large gateway, out of which stepped a naked, beardless female dwarf with long hair that seemed to have many earthy colours, the gold of ripe wheat mixed with the rich black-brown of lush soil, perfect for planting and the dirty grey colour of moist clay and the nut brown skin of one who spent all of their time outdoors in the field. "Yala onna en' vilya." El called again and a tiny little man with short cropped white and silver hair, just as naked as the she dwarf, this time with a pair of transluscent wings idly waving about his small pale form, dropped softly down to the lower branches of the tree.  
"Yala onna en' runya." She said, and a moment later, out of the strange, sourceless fire came a tall, proud looking male elf with golden skin, as naked as the rest of them, his long, fiery red orange, yellow and white hair providing all the clothing he needed as he walked to stand under the tree. "Yala onna en' alu." The sky clad she elf called a fourth and final time, and Thorin started violently as a webbed hand shot out of the tiny pool of water, followed by a slender woman of unknown race or origin, her long, silver hair fell about her bluish body in long wet strands, water plants covered what her hair did not, and upon her head was a beautiful little crown of pink and white water lillies adorned her brow.

"Why have you summoned us little sister?" This last creature asked softly, her voice like that of a babbling brook.

"Forgive me honoured Alu, I would not have done so were it not vital." El bowed low to this strange, beautiful creature. "This wood is sick and will die without your help." She flung her arms wide to encompass the entire forest.

"Yes, we know dear little Falathiel." The little winged man said testily, his voice like the wind dancing through reeds.  
Anything else the little man might have said was not heard by Thorin as a resounnding click in the vaulted chamber of his mind brought a single memory forth.

"_Are you a dwarf?" the gentle lilting voice asked from behind him, Thorin turned around to see a dark eyed little elf looking down at him from the lower branches of one of the may giant trees surrounding them._

"_Yes." The fifteen year old said simply._

"_My brother, prince Legolas told me that all Dwarves have tails." The little girl said, scrubbing the untidy mess of her auburn hair out of her eyes. "Could you show me yours?"_

"_I'm sorry?" The young prince asked, taken aback more by her abrupt manner than by the question itself.  
She sighed impatiently, jumping down from the branch to land rather heavily on the landing he stood on._

"_Could you show me your tail?" she said slowly, as if she were speaking to a simpleton. "I've never seen a dwarf's tail."_

"_The Khazad don't have tails." Thorin said automatically, using the khuzdul word for Dwarves._

"_That's nice, but I'm not talking about the Kudza I'm talking about dwarves." She said, her terrible mispronunciation of Khazad making the dwarf prince laugh heartily. "What are you laughing at?" She demanded, looking as if she were about to stamp one of her tiny feet. "Stop laughing at me." She ordered him imperiously, stamping that foot, tears welling up in her large dark eyes, her pretty little face screwing up.  
The laughter died in the young prince's throat and what could be seen of his young face past the thick bushy beard went whiter than the under tunic he wore beneath his thick leather vest._

"_No, nononono, please don't cry little elf." Thorin said, his own blue eyes going wide with terror. His plea came too late as she opened her gap toothed mouth and let out a plaintive wail at the same moment his grandfather, Thror, king under the mountain and king Thranduil of the Greenwood came around the corner deep in discussion.  
Thorin looked up at the two monarchs and did the only thing a teenage boy could do in that situation. "I didn't do it." He said automatically. "She came up behind me and was asking me questions and then she just started crying." Thror and Thranduil exchanged a look that only two fathers would understand._

_The elf king held his hand out to the little girl._

"_He laughed at me!" The little girl sobbed, flying into her father's arms._

"_Hush, Falathiel." Thranduil soothed the child, as he picked her up._

"_Perhaps it would be best if we continued this discussion some other time?" Thror suggested with a sympathetic glance at the small child in the other king's arms._

"_Thank you heru en amin." Thranduil said with a graceful bow, despite the child he held onto before he turned back the way he had just come, carrying the sniffling child with him._

Thorin looked back up at the tiny woman in the clearing, surprised to find her steadily returning his gaze.

"He would be perfect." The she dwarf stated, in a deep voice, much like he expected the earth to sound if it had a voice. "Come here Dwarf." She called to him, raising a hand.  
Thorin cried out in dismay as his feet shuffled of their own accord towards the circle.

"Falathiel, what's happening?" Thorin demanded, willing his feet to stop, going paler than the naked she elf in the circle of power.

"Stop fighting it Thorin. Iantatara Kemen will have her way." El counseled judiciously, sinking to her knees in the soft loam at the roots of the tree. "They will have the child they want."

**A/N: How you been?**

**just in case any of you were wondering, sky clad is a polite way of saying buck ass nude**

**The elvish I am using is not from middle earth, I couldn't find a sindarin dictionary so I had to make do.**

**please review it, I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Padshii out**


	5. Forgotten Guardians

The next morning the party got up to the sound of El dragging herself from her blankets into the bushes nearby to throw up heartily.  
All in the company bar Thorin, Gandalf and El frowned, talking amongst themselves swiftly, but none said anything, believing she had simply taken ill, it was not until midday when her stomach was undeniably swelling with new life and the small she elf had to borrow an old, very patched tunic from Dori that Bilbo dared to ask what they all wanted to know.

"Mistress El." Bilbo nodded to her as she sat in, cradled protectively in front of Thorin. "We, that is I, and the others, should very much like to know what commenced within, er, hollow heart, or heart hollow?"

"Something necessary for the survival of this forest master Baggins." she replied evasively as she absently ran her dainty fingers over her steadily expanding girth.

"Yes, but what exactly happened?" The halfling pressed, focusing on her and not paying any heed to Thorin who was presently blushing like an untried school boy, the other Dwarves however had noticed their leader's back stiffen slightly, and those who knew him best knew without asking what had happened to the pair, Gandalf, who was sucking wordlessly on his pipe started choking on the smoke as he heard the conversation between the halfling and the druid.

"It's not really any concern of yours Bilbo." El insisted, flushing slightly.

"Why are you avoiding the question, I merely wish to know what has caused this frankly alarming condition of yours." The Hobbit snapped.

Thorin's hands tightened on the reins of his pony and he nudged it into a trot, tightening his arms about the small woman in front of him.

"I feel it would be best if no one bothered either of them about her delicate condition." Gandalf said softly.

"It's not like Thorin to be so protective of an elf." Fili announced with a frown.

"Trust your uncle's judgment master Dwarf." the old man responded quietly.

\\\\\\\/

"What are you going to do about the child you carry?" Thorin asked once they were out of earshot of the others.

"I will hand it over to the dryads." El whispered, not meeting his eye. "Once they have the child only they and the Taur amandil will know of it's existence." Thorin slumped against her, knowing without a doubt he would never get to even see the child.

"Why must knowledge of this child pass out of knowledge?" He murmured after several pregnant minutes, fearing he did not wish to know.

"To protect it and others like it from all who would harm such a creature." El responded in a tiny voice.

**AN: Hey guys, just figured I should let you all know, this story will be going on hiatus while I work on my Labyrinth Fanfic.**

**unfortunately, with this one I've hit a spectacular dead end, I apologise for that, if you want to check out my Labyrinth fanfic it's called Sarah's return, chapter one is up now.**

**Please Read and Review, I'm sorry about not continuing this one at the moment, I will in the future though.**

**Padshii out**


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